"There sure are alot of them," Zoe observed somberly. Phaedra and her chief scout were laying on their bellies on the top of a shallow hill peering out across the battlefield, both women had shed their armor for the task but it was still hot enough to raise a sweat. Below them they could see the border town. It was a simple place of mud brick, which was a good thing as the only smoke Phaedra could see was rising from cook fires. Arbella was situated at the last reliable ford in the Kitri before the streams draining from the higher ground to the north combined to broaden and deepen it to the point that boats were needed to make the crossing. There was great bridge that spanned it a hundred miles down river at the provincial capital of Sidris but Sidris was protected by high stone walls, and two great citadels protected either end of the bridge. Any Imperial campaign had to begin with Arbela. The deepening river also meant that the lands beyond Arbela grew steadily richer as the increased water allowed the locals to cultivate wheat, apricots, dates and pistachios. More farmland meant more Khareeds, and it seemed every one of them had come to Arbela.

Thousands of Khareeds and their infantry auxiliaries were encamped on the eastern side of the village. Rough seige works ringed the town, a shallow ditch faced with sharpened stakes. The stakes were sparce and mostly on the western side of the city, timber being too expensive to permit a proper invesiture. Phaedra curled her lip, while Miravet were not reknowned for their seigecraft she had spent enough time in Imperial service and worked with the Imperial Engineers enough to view the works with contempt. They probably wouldn't stop Brasidas from breaking out if he decided it was necessary, but it would slow the process somewhat, perhaps enough to allow the Khareeds to block him.

"Maybe ten thousand," Phaedra opined, sweeping the large Khareed camp with her eyes. Their fine horses with their colorful ramients were drawn up in lines beside their infantry, most of whom were lightly armored. Several thousand Khareeds appeared to be dismounted to fight as heavy infantry. That showed better judgement than Phaedra liked to see in her enemies. Again her Imperial service had corrected her native prejudices. It had been infantry armies which had established the Empire when it rose from a simple city of shepards five centuries before, conquering much of the known world with their short swords and broad shields, and too this day there were no infantry like Imperial infantry.

"More like tweleve," Zoe corrected, "I wonder why he isn't holding down the ford." The ford was visible as a patch of lighter water. A broad dusty track dipped into the river and rose on the other side, marked by cairns of piled river rocks.

"Dosen't want to split his troops, plus if Brasidas did cross, the Khareeds can just follow on this bank and hit them in open contry once the river gets shallower up stream. The Khareed commander would probably be delighted to get him out into open country. Khareed heavy lancers were among the best in the world, and it would go poorly for an outnumbered force in open country.

"Judging from the week encirlement he is expecting reinforcements from Sidris, that or he just wants to force Brasidas to withdraw to the north west, away from the water, let the desert finish him off," Phaedra continued.

"Looks like they are starting to form up," Zoe remaked, nodding her chin towards where knots of Khareeds were begining to form. Like mold growing on bread the force began to coalece around the noble horsemen. Phaedra wiggled back behind the rise, squinting up at the sun. It was still perhaps an hour till sundown, but the sun was low on the horizon now, it would shine into the eyes of Brasidas and his men as the Khareeds made their assault, giving the Atvari a considerable advantage. Phadera smiled tightly. It would also keep them blind to the Miravet at their backs until the last possible moment. They might be outnumbered nearly three to one, but by the Huntress, these sorry bastards were going to learn a thing or two before the night was out.

The sound of trumpets heralded the beginning of the Atvari attack. It had taken most of an hour to get organised, that was actually pretty respectable for Khareeds, whose network of noble commanders and competing senses of honor often made such things an all day affair. It had been time enough for Phaedra to detach two of her four tets. Zoe and her troops had road back to the last ford and crossed the river moving up along the southern bank of the Kriti. Eudoxia had swung north, keeping the low hills between them and the Khareeds before emerging on the high ground to the north east. That left Phaedra and Iona with just over a thousand riders of their own to carry out the main thrust. 

"I think we might have done better to keep Zoe with us," Iona complained as she swung up into her saddle. She was in full armor now and had settled the distinctive Miravet helmet with its three leaf design down over her face. Phaedra passed the long steel tipped lance up to her and Iona settled it into the stirup cup of her mount so it stood upright, then tied the leather cord around it so it wouldn't be in the way of using her bow.

"If we dont shatter them completely, then we will just be a slightly less outnumbered force when we join up with Brasidas, four hundred more riders won't help us in the charge, but it might make the difference at the ford between a defeat and a rout," Phaedra explained. Iona grunted, unconvinced but unwilling to argue the point. In truth Phaedra had taken an extra hundred riders from both Zoe and Eudoxia to stiffen her main force. It would have to be enough. Phaedra swung herself up into her own saddle and accepted a lance from another rider. She didn't don her own helmet though, not yet. More tiny trumpet blasts sounded from beyond the screening hills. The attack was underway now, in her minds eye Phaedra could picture the dismounted Khareeds pressing forward towards the town, their archers rushing forward to trade arrows with the defenders. It wasn't until the first clashes of weapons could be heard that Phaedra rode forward.

"These Atvari bastards only think they want to get into town," she called, her horse prancing dramatically as though enjoying the moment, "but wait till they have a thousand of us up their arses to encourage them. I'll bet you the poor bastards try to grow wings!" A chant began among the ranks of riders. Phaedra! Phaedra! Phaedra! She grinned like a panther and settled her helmet onto her head before turning her horse to the east. These sorry Atvari bastards were fucked.